Remember Love?
by LuxLitLife
Summary: Beginning @ S05, Lisbon and Jane find themselves in each other. Some will be more racy than others. This is my VERY FIRST fanfic attempt, so please comment/review! will also post side stories. *I DO NOT OWN THE MENTALIST* SPOILERS: I'm usually up to date with the latest episode. Not sure how it will end, but I want a long story! Please be patient if there's not enough romance yet
1. Chapter 1

She remembered when he had first shown up at the CBI headquarters. Virgil's fear of lawsuit that made him allow Jane to come along. How he solved that case; it was really creepy, actually. He was a bit annoying, but that was because he wasn't one of them, and he was being forced on her to cart around. That and those damn Red John files.

Her impression? A poor, sad, sad, very sad man. Barely holding himself together for all the grief—as he followed her around it reminded her of a little lost puppy. Maybe that is why in the end she asked him to solve that murder. He seemed to need some type of recreation, and he was good at guessing—she didn't believe in psychics so really, it was just mental power—and goddam she needed to close some cases. Virgil approved.

And clearly it was a good idea. He had helped them close tons of cases, raised their close rate out the roof. He brought excitement, true excitement to her life. You would think, as a cop, that every day was exciting, but really, it was tiring. Day upon day of lies and tears and death and not being able to trust hardly anyone.

But Jane…Jane lit up her day, she wouldn't lie. Just seeing his curly blond head lifted her heart up and she looked forward to seeing that bright smile, the smile that was surrounded by his sexy laugh lines that crinkled his eyes, that smile that said he knew something she didn't.

But did he know? Even Lisbon wouldn't admit it to herself, not consciously.

She denied the fact that she loved him, or him her.

Before he shot her, in that ruse of his to catch Red John, that horrible FBI cockup that ended with Wainwright killed, before he shot her he said "I love you".

Was that just for show, in case someone was listening? Or did he mean it? Was it friendly love, like how you would tell your best friend you love them, but not romantically, or was it actual love?

When she had these feelings, these feelings she wouldn't admit to herself, she felt horribly guilty. Guilty pining for a man who was so devoted to his wife, a decade after her death. How could she hope to catch his attention, how could she hope to feel anything but terrible to imagine him giving _her_ those affections, splitting them between her and her? And his daughter, don't forget that.

Teresa Lisbon sat up in bed. She had been awake for so long now. And all that was still running through her head. It had been running through her head for the past week or so now. She couldn't shake the thoughts anymore. She couldn't shake them any less than she could stop herself from dreaming of him, dreaming of her visiting him in his rundown apartment, holding his hand, pulling him up from that splintery desk and kissing him, kissing away his pain until he kissed her back and made love to her in that apartment. she could hardly visit him now, without something like that flashing in her mind. It gave her shivers and goosebumps and was increasingly hard to control.

She pushed back the covers and got up. There was a missed call and a text message on her phone. Jane.

_Teresa, you might want to get down to the station, I have solved the case. Let's have breakfast._

She wasn't surprised he had cracked it already. For all his ego he deserved it. She knew he acted like he was king but she knew even more he didn't actually feel it. His ego was for show, it helped his personal image. People were more likely to let him have his way, people follow a man who has so much confidence in himself.

Lisbon brushed her teeth and her hopped in the shower, briefly. She wanted to get down to the station quickly and distract herself.

It wasn't his ego though, that attracted her. It was him himself, it was the soft underbelly of Mr. Patrick Jane, retired psychic and CBI Consultant. His drive and determination, his forcefulness and his softness, the fact that for all the shields he put up, she knew he was human. Maybe he didn't let her in like normal people did. But he let her inside his mind much more than anyone else. She knew him better than anyone on the planet, by her own estimations. Everyone who could claim to know him better was either dead or didn't know how much he had changed.

She hopped in her SUV and speeded to the station. His tiny blue Citroën was parked right there, a smile crept on her face. She parked the car, turned off the ignition and walked briskly into the building, her black heeled boots clicking on the pavement with her every step. A guard nodded at Lisbon as she stepped into the gold painted elevator, closing the diamond shaped gates and riding up to her floor.

"Hey boss," Van Pelt said as she entered the office.

"Morning Grace. Where's Cho and Rigsby?"

"They went to get some coffee. Or well, Cho did, and Wayne followed him so he could show him more baby pictures of Ben."

Lisbon smiled. Rigsby deserved a little happiness, and that took the form of his rapidly growing son, who was admittedly adorable.

She heard footsteps and her heart beat faster, not with nerves or anxiety, but relief and joy. Before he even said anything she could smell the warm, musky scent that always preceded him.

"Ah, good morning, Teresa," said Patrick Jane, CBI consultant. She loved the way he said her name, a little bit different than everyone else, it glided off his tongue in a lazy, sexy way, that was infinitely more intimate than most things a man had ever said to her before.

She faced him and smiled, making it look sarcastic to hide her delight.

He held a blue porcelain saucer in his left hand, and raised up the matching teacup in his right.

"Care for some tea?"


	2. Chapter 2

They had been lovers. He admitted it. Lisbon wanted to tear the face off of Lorelei, that smug, calm, know-it-all face. A face infinitely more beautiful than hers would ever be.

Even before he left the interrogation room, he kissed her on the head. That moment, that kiss, more than anything she would ever have from him.

Patrick, why? Are you really as smart as you think, do you actually believe you are playing her? Were you playing her when you had sex with her?

To her knowledge, it was the first woman he'd been with since his wife. She even brought it up, he seemed to find it amusing. The look in his eyes told her he knew she was jealous, that he saw her concern too, in the jealousy.

She hated to admit to herself that, with Lorelei escaping prison, at least Jane was away from her charms and her wiles. Even if he wanted to spend every spare moment finding her. Damn that woman.

She clicked down the hallway and sat down at her desk to do some paperwork.

Jane saw Lisbon pass by. She was so full of confidence, vivacity, assurance. She knew she did what was right, and she lived her life by her morals. She was lucky she could do that, luckier than so many other people.

He knew though, by observation, that she had her insecurities. She didn't know how beautiful she was. She wasn't conscious of what her long brown hair, her big, green, honest eyes and her petite, perfect frame could do to a man. Even with the hundreds of comments, the multiple hit-on's, she couldn't imagine. True though, he thought, that it is difficult to accept a compliment from someone you are trying to interrogate or your colleagues. Unfortunately it was a man's world, and she refused to let them rule it, or her.

He shifted his body on the big leather couch he used at the CBI. He closed his eyes and feigned sleep while he pondered. He had already solved their current case, which could wait. Right now he wanted to think.

Teresa hated Lorelei, that was plain as day. It pained him to know that Teresa was hurt, seeing him and Lorelei interact. Her concern for him pained him, she didn't have to care for him at all.

Everyone here was in pain. Cho missed Summer, Rigsby regretted never letting his father hold Ben, Grace still suffered nightmares about O'Laughlin. Some things just don't go away. He knew that as well as anyone, every day he hurt. Certainly, he didn't feel the same anymore as he did ten years ago, but he was still knee deep in it.

That night with Lorelei shamed him a bit. He knew it had to do with Red John somehow. He wished he hadn't had to sleep with her but it was necessary. He didn't feel guilty, his wife was dead and he wasn't cheating on someone. When he thought about it, it was almost therapeutic. The thought that he was going to hurt Red John, that he was going to make his "gift" backfire on him. Surely she really did mean nothing to him, when he looked at her face that night he pictured someone else's face. Not his wife, he would never think about his nights with her again, it was too painful. No, when he slept with Lorelei it was Teresa Lisbon he saw looking down at him, telling him life was going to be okay.

Maybe that would be seen by some as disrespectful to her, disgusting. Picturing her as he made love to a Red John associate but he didn't think so. There were so many times he wished it actually _had_ been her he couldn't count them anymore. Imagining it was her had made him strong enough to go through with it. Knowing that it wasn't was what shamed him.

"So are you going to be any help on this case whatsoever?" Lisbon said to him as he walked into her office, shutting the door and blinds behind him.

"Oh that, I've already decided who it is."

"And are you going to enlighten the rest of us poor mortals?" Lisbon said, in her semi-sarcastic, no nonsense tone, raising her eyebrows and turning her head to the side a bit, in inquiry.

"Only if I am finally given some free time to find Lorelei."

Teresa's face soured; she really did hate her. That mutual feeling made her even more attractive to him.

"Jane," she said, putting down her pen and closing the folder she was writing in, "I don't know if that's a good idea. You can't have too many more incidents before the FBI decide to flay you alive. I don't want you to get hurt."

"Lisbon, your concern is sweet but, not needed," he said, being a bit more rude than he would like, but he had to be. "I can handle this. But I need time on my own."

"Well, I can't control what you do in your free time. I'll try to give you as much down time as possible. For _one week only._ And only if you correctly bring down our guy right now."

He smiled his brightest, happiest smile and Lisbon flinched a bit, as if she was holding back something. He hoped she liked him, loved him as much as he imagined he was beginning to love her.

"You got it, boss." And he began to elaborate to her their current killer, the taste of a week of freedom on his lips.


	3. Chapter 3

Lisbon had given him his week. She was glad to have an excuse to intrude upon his solitude. But when she got to his apartment, he wasn't there. Her phone rang.

"Jane?"

"Ah, Lisbon! Where are you?"

"I'm—at your apartment, where are you?"

"My week is up, I'm in your office, reporting for duty. Why don't you get down here?"

Lisbon rolled her eyes. Trust Jane to be one step ahead of her. But she was happy he was waiting for her. "I'll be there soon." She ended the call and hopped down the stairs.

"Teresa!" Jane smiled, so warmly, like an old friend you haven't seen in months, but when you see them again it's like it hasn't been a day. It gave her a fluttering in her stomach. She tried to stay calm. He closed the blinds on the windows.

"A gift," he continued, handing her a box impeccably wrapped in gold paper. Her heart skipped a beat.

"Why?" Lisbon asked.

"Gratitude. I want you to know how much I truly appreciate the time you gave me. I am much closer to finding Lorelei now. And Red John."

There were those names again. Names she wished would burn themselves out of her memories, out of Patrick's memory. So it could be just her and him, together. But that couldn't be.

"Well, you're welcome. I'm glad you're happy."

"Me too. Well, are you going to open it? I won't make you guess first." She remembered her birthday a couple years ago where he guessed all of her presents. And then bought her a pony, who does that? She smiled. She used her long fingernails to remove the ribbon tied around the box and pull off the paper. The logo on the box was an expensive jeweller's she had window gazed at a few times before. She wasn't surprised Jane knew she liked the store. She looked up at him. Her heart was beating very fast, why was he buying her jewellery?

"Go on, it won't bite." He was looking at her carefully. She tried to keep from blushing. "Here, let me open it for you." Jane pulled the lid off and inside was a beautiful bracelet. It was a shimmering silver chain studded with tiny crystals. Or wait, were those actually crystals?

"Jane, are those-"

"Diamonds? Yes. Every woman deserves a piece of jewellery once in a while." He was very close to her face, so close she could smell the mint in his breath, feel the warmth radiating from his tanned face. He looked into her eyes as she looked up at his.

"Patrick…"

"Here, let me put it on you." He delicately lifted it out of the box, setting the empty case on her desk. She held out her left wrist and he lifted it a bit higher. His hands were smooth, and he gently held her wrist with his fingertips, pushing back the sleeve of her black blazer.

Jane unclasped the beautiful bracelet and fixed it around her wrist. It sparkled brilliantly, even in the dim light of her office. She looked at it in awe. It was hard to remember the last time something like that was bought for her. It fit snugly. She never wanted to take it off.

"I only have one regret." Jane said.

"About what?" she said, looking into his honest eyes again.

"About the bracelet."

"What? Why, it's beautiful."

"Yes, but it's not as beautiful as you are. I wish it were."

Lisbon's breath caught in her lungs. Finally she looked up at him. Her eyes were wide and she hoped like she never hoped before.

"Patrick…."

"Teresa." He let go of her hand and looked at her. Really looked. Slowly he put his gentle, ever so gentle hands around her face, running his finger along her chin. She kept her gaze steady, never averting from his eyes.

"Teresa," he said again. He held her face, fingers in her hair, and moved closer to her, closer than she though was even possible and brought his face down to hers. She lifted her chin in his hands and met his lips in a kiss.

Her heart, her lungs and her chest all felt like they were going to explode. She kissed his lips, hungrily, ravenous. Her hands went up and wrapped around his shoulders and she couldn't stop.

He pulled away for a moment and looked at her, his eyes lit up before he kissed her again. He kissed her softly and moved his hands down around her tiny, perfect waist. It took all his willpower to lift his mouth from hers after a moment or two of kissing. He hugged her close.

"Jane, what—"

Suddenly the door opened.

"Boss, I think Rigsby and I…oh. Sorry." Cho stopped dead in the doorway. He looked at them for a second with his poker face, quickly concealing his surprise. He turned heel and left, pulling the door shut.

Lisbon came to her senses. She pulled away.

"I should go." Jane said. She nodded.

"Thank you, for the gift."

"Anything for you, Teresa." He left her office and she sat down at her desk, heart pounding.


	4. Chapter 4

_Damn Cho!_

At least he was lucky it was him who walked in on them. Cho wouldn't say anything. Heaven forbid Grace or Rigsby had been the ones to walk in.

Patrick walked briskly through the CBI offices. He had finally done it. He had finally kissed her.

He was risking a lot showing feelings to Teresa Like that. But he had a feeling things were soon going to become very different. The bracelet _was_ a thank you, and an apology at the same time. He had accomplished a lot in his week off. And he was sorry for all the pain he was about to put Lisbon through.

He had hatched a plot to break Lorelei out of prison. As long as certain people did their parts. That was why he was so happy.

He walked up to the elevator.

"Ahh, Cho. Fine morning, isn't it?" he said to Kimball, who was also waiting for the elevator.

"It's Sacramento. It's always a fine morning," Cho said, in his usual tone of pointing out the obvious.

"Fair enough." They both got in the elevator. "Hey Cho, do we need to have a discussion about something?" Patrick asked as the elevator doors closed.

Cho looked at Jane briefly, not a hint of suspicion in his eyes, just his usual blank, unreadable stare. "No, Jane." He said, looking away.

"Fantastic." Jane said, smiling and rubbing his hands together. "See you Cho!" he got off the elevator. He had a certain, powerful Englishman to meet at a theatre.

...

Reflecting on it made him feel miserable and torn. The happiness that had surged through him, the elevation of his spirit as he drove the dark blue sedan through the desert towards Lorelei. Of course she didn't want to see him but that was to be expected. But now, sitting here, back in his apartment, he felt empty.

To be sure, the neckbrace under his chin reminded him of the harsh parting between him and Lorelei, but it reminded him that he was now closer than ever to catching Red John.

But that wasn't what made him feel empty, wasn't what made him feel torn. In fact, he was almost disgusted with himself. He wanted to tell himself that it was pity, that it was a ruse to distract her from Red John, that had allowed him to kiss her again. He thought about it. What was in a kiss? This time he wasn't repulsed by the woman, but instead her affections, her unwillingness to leave at first was _his_ triumph over Red John. After seeing the picture with "ROY" scratched in the floor he felt nothing but sympathy for her. She made her own mess but tenderness was the way to make her see the errors of her way.

But he felt like a traitor. Lisbon was the one who really deserved his affections and kisses. Someone who looked so strong on the outside was so soft and beautiful on the inside. He was a wretched creature to think of anyone else. She cared about him more than anyone else in the world, he knew it from the way she looked at him. It had always been that way, one glance and he knew what she was thinking. Hell, she knew what HE was thinking half the time, but he would never admit it to her. The way she saw into his soul gave him goosebumps, and she deserved more respect than this.

But he couldn't, not just yet. He had dreams, dreams of finally walking into her house, pulling her lithe little body off her couch and rushing her into her room to treat her like a woman should be. He dreamed of tearing off that harsh, business outfit, piece by piece, until he got to the soft, warm pink skin and kissing every inch of her body.

He thought of it now, sitting in his chair. His groin went stiff in his trousers. A lump jumped into his throat, his mind tormented by the waiting game.

What was he going to do now?

His phone rang. He flipped it open, checked the caller ID and answered.

"Teresa! Say, any idea when this neck brace can come off? It's itchy as hell."


	5. Chapter 5

_Sorry about the lack of posts! Life is busy and I want to make sure I don't contradict anything from the latest episode! Please make sure you read my LORELEI SIDE STORY HERE ( s/8727499/1/Side-Story-Lorelei-Remember-Love) to make this chapter make more sense. If you haven't watched past eps. 508, this will contain spoilers. Thank you for your reviews, they help me a lot! If you have any requests, I will do my best to fulfill them. Enjoy. _

At first Lisbon had to be angry. And she was, this was verging on the last she could handle of Jane putting himself at risk, endangering his life. What would she do if she lost him? Not just at the CBI, but what would her life become?

She wanted to be the special person in his life. Instead, suddenly, after a diamond bracelet and a passionate kiss, he creates some ruse to be "kidnapped" by his arch-enemies girlfriend.

Sitting in her den she pulled out a bottle of strong liquor.

It wouldn't be half so bad if she didn't think that there weren't some kind of connection there. Who knows what they did in that cabin? Clearly he faked the car accident, she knew that but she would never tell, no matter what she threatened Jane. She threatened him because it was her job, but she would never actually do anything.

Did he love her? Lorelei? She poured herself more whisky. Tears rolled down her cheeks. For what seemed forever now, she had kept her emotions in check. Yes, because it wouldn't be allowed at work but even more so out of respect of his late wife. What right did she have to usurp the memory of someone so special? Because she knew, Angela Ruskin Jane had to be very special, to have a man like Patrick devoted to her, and only her.

And now, what was Lorelei doing? What respect did she have? It wasn't fair at all. Lisbon drank half the bottle mixed with her salty, hot tears and eventually fell asleep on her chair.

Hours later she awoke with a start. It was late, the clock said it was just after 3AM. There was a soft light coming from somewhere nearby. She looked out the window, but it wasn't from outside, the street was dark but for the pale orange streetlights. The light seemed to be coming from near the staircase. She got up, dizzy and stumbling, and walked towards it. She followed it up the stairs and into her room.

There was a person, in her bedroom. She instinctively reached for her gun, but she had removed it from her belt long before and so she tried to assume a defensive pose.

A sleepy, soft voice spoke from the glow.

_Does she have a flashlight or something? Am I really still that drunk?_

_Teresa Lisbon…_ the voice said

"Yes, who are you?"

The glowing figure came closer, and Lisbon's eyes adjusted. She was beautiful, with long, dark blonde hair and soft brown eyes. Her lips were closed in a gentle smile. She looked so familiar…

Teresa started.

"Are you, wait, what the hell?"

_I am Angela Ruskin, or, her spirit. My body no longer lives. _

"There's no such things as ghosts. I'm just drunk. There's no such things as psychics, or ghosts, or any of that crap."

_You say there is no such thing, yet here I am. Believe in me or not, if I want you to see me you shall. Teresa, there is something I must discuss with you._

"This is a dream, a crazy, crazy dream. Wait, wait, if you are real tell me, who killed you? Who is Red John? Help me, help Patrick!"

_I cannot help you Lisbon. That is not why I am here. This is not a dream, but believe what you will. I have no names for you, I cannot point fingers. I don't know. But listen to me. My husband, my husband who loved me so much, I still love him. I care about him, dead as I am. But I am not selfish. Here, I have no real need for love. I have no real need for vengeance. There is nothing to it where I am. I need just one thing of you Lisbon. I want you to make Patrick happy. You love him, it is plain as day. I know he loves you. My husband, he needs to find love to be happy. He will go insane, hunting this man, without love. This woman, Lorelei. She will bring him nothing but trouble, he cannot feel for her any more than as a means to an end. She will bring ruin to him if he lets her. _

Real or not, Lisbon thought she liked Mrs. Jane a lot, if that was her opinion of Lorelei.

_Please, Teresa. He is weaving a dangerous web. He is too close to her, emotionally. I can't stand to see him kiss her again, like at that cabin. I thought I would die again._

"He kissed Lorelei at the cabin?" sonofabitch.

_Yes, he did. I beg of you, love him Lisbon. You need him and he needs you. I only want the best for him and you two, you are meant for each other. Patrick is a very peculiar man, but very special. Many will love him but there are few who can really understand him, but I know that you are one of these people. Please, Ms. Lisbon, please just try and keep his path clear of that woman. Help him with his vengeance, if that is what you wish, but don't let him ruin himself. He hates himself so much for what happened he needs to learn again what it is to really live, to trust another. He needs to be happy. _

Teresa thought she was going insane, but she agreed to the spectre. Even if it was just her imagination.

_There will be a time where he comes looking to you for consolation, and when you will want him just as badly. Don't feel guilty for loving him. Just love him, period._

"Okay." The ghost disappeared. Lisbon, overwhelmed and confused, fell down on her bed and went back to sleep.

When she awoke she wasn't sure what to think. Obviously ghosts weren't real. But where had her subconscious drawn this up from? She had barely seen one or two photos of Angela Ruskin, how had she made such a vivid imagination of her? And why would her subconscious make her up in the first place.

She had a headache at work and a day full of paper work that made everything ten times worse. She avoided everyone, even Jane, not knowing what to do.

When she got home she rummaged through her drawers, tidying them, keeping her mind off of things. There was a random television show playing in the background. As she cleaned she found an unopened Christian Dior makeup palette in one of the drawers in her bedroom.

She took off the packaging. Jane had bought it for her this past Christmas but she hadn't worn it yet. She was waiting for an occasion. It was expensive makeup, and had surprised everyone at the office that he bought it for her, as she hardly ever wore anything more than mascara to work. But Jane had taken the jokes that he was losing his touch in stride, and he knew why. Lisbon didn't wear makeup because it wasn't practical, but that didn't mean she didn't like it. To her, and she knew Patrick knew this, the makeup wasn't necessarily for use but it was a symbol that there was a part of her he was connected to, and knew, and that he thought should come out to play every once in a while. He was telling her to trust him, and let him take care of her every once in a while. Be beautiful, he would be practical.

When she was a girl, a teenager, she loved experimenting with makeup. She was good at it. She had some friends back then, that taught her this and that, and let her use their shadows and blushes and brushes. She never kept anything in the house like that because she didn't know how her dad would react, or, overreact, to it. He once found her using her mother's and the next day it was gone. This was the first makeup that truly belonged to her. Surely Patrick must know that.

"Well, what the hell." Lisbon said, and she opened up the palette. Sections of different hues of makeup stood out to her hungry eyes, stamped with patterns along the tops. She pulled out a makeup brush and swooped browns and greys and blacks over her eyelids. She dabbed on lilac to bring out her eyes, and she brushed her lashes with black mascara, lengthening them. She found blush and brushed it over her cheeks, warming her pale face with a peachy pink tone. A rarely used tube of pale rose lipstick was found, and she ran it over her soft lips. Generally she didn't spend too much time looking in the mirror but this time she actually really liked what she saw.

"Damn you, Jane." She thought, smiling. She heard the doorbell ring and flung on a sweater over her tank top before rushing downstairs to answer it.


	6. Chapter 6

_Before reading, you may find it helpful to read this LORELEI side story HERE:_

( s/8727499/1/Side-Story-Lorelei-Remember-Love)

_I realize a lot of people were upset about Angela's "ghost". Hopefully this chapter will ease a bit of the tension, please remember, things are not always what they seem! Thank you for sticking with me so far, I've still got a few chapters left to reveal themselves _

Patrick Jane struggled with his stiff neck, freshly out of the brace. Thinking back again, the whole ruse was worth it, the "abduction", everything. He had met Red John before, it was someone he _knew_. He was on the verge of finding him, he knew it.

He did regret one thing though still, and that was Lisbon. She was visibly upset, even after so many days. He hadn't told her he kissed Lorelei but she was obviously upset about her, about the fact that Jane would let her go. Through and through Lisbon was a cop, and though it was her flaw, he loved that about her.

Love. He did not love Lorelei, he determined. They had a connection, they both had lost family, loved ones, irreplaceable people, to Red John, even if she refused to believe it. Their kiss, it wasn't love, it was consolation. They could understand each other better than anyone else, and they had chemistry. They could find solace in each other's companionship, but there was no love. She did not make him happy aside from leading him to Red John, to justice.

He would have told Teresa as much if she would believe him. She had avoided him at the office all day, clearly pissed.

He was determined to make things right though. It had been long enough, even if he didn't deserve forgiveness by now he wanted her to acknowledge he was sorry that she was upset about it. He was going to call her, tell her he was on his way, but in the end he thought the better of it and kept his phone shut. She would probably reject his calls anyways.

He drove his rental car over to Lisbon's house, and seeing some lights on and her car parked by itself in the driveway he hurried across the street and knocked on the door.

No one answered, so he rang the bell. He rang it twice before he heard footsteps and the lock being turned open.

Lisbon opened the door.

"Hi Teresa, may I come in?"

She stared at him for a second, then moved over to let him in before shutting the door.

"Teresa, are you wearing the makeup from Christmas?" he sniffed. "and the perfume?"

"Yes, I am." She looked very flushed.

"You look very beautiful. Lisbon what's wrong?" She looked pained, should he have not come?

He could hardly believe his ears when he heard her speak, "I saw a ghost." She said.

He shouldn't have, but he laughed.

"A ghost? My dear, ghosts do not exist, I hope you haven't been into the belladonna. Believe someone who has been paid to try every method of "communication" with them for years." He smiled, but she still looked very pale. "All right, sorry, I didn't mean to laugh. But trust me, ghosts aren't real. Who did you "see"?" he asked.

She just shook her head, embarrassed.

"You don't know who it was?"

She shook her head again. "No, I do."

"Okay," he touched her shoulder. "You can trust me Teresa. Who did you see?"

"Your wife." She whispered.

That took him aback. Utterly puzzled, he dropped his hand from her shoulder. Obviously she would never play a prank on him, and she was clearly upset. But why would Lisbon of all people see Angela in a dream? Because, he knew, it was definitely a dream. He saw the empty whisky bottle.

"Lisbon, were you drinking?"

"Yes," she said. "And I woke up and saw a light, so I walked up the stairs and she was in my room. She had to be real, I mean, I woke up in my bed. I never thought ghosts were real but I can't explain it."

"You sleepwalk."

"Well…" she thought, maybe he was right, "yes, I have been known to do that."

"So you had a dream, after you walked up to bed," Patrick started walking up the stairs, taking two steps at a time, walking down the hallway to her bedroom. He glanced around her room and looked at the outlet in the corner. "Lisbon, does that work?"

He was pointing at the nightlight in the corner of the room. She used it to make sure she didn't trip when she woke up in the middle of the night, or so she could see when she got a phone call after she fell asleep. She nodded; it turned on as soon as it got dark in the room.

"Well, that explains your glow. I just don't understand why you dreamed about her. Did she tell you anything you didn't already know? What did she tell you?"

"She said to help you be happy. And she…said that Lorelei was trouble."

"Did she tell you who…."

"No," Lisbon shook her head. "I'm sorry, she didn't know who Red John is. Patrick, did you kiss Lorelei, at that cabin?"

She looked at him so intently; with so much hurt in her eyes, that he actually blushed, he was embarrassed.

"Yes, I did. I'm sorry Teresa. It didn't mean anything, it's hard to explain."

"That's okay. She's very pretty." Some tears escaped, against her will, from her blurring eyes. She knew it. She didn't need a ghost, real or not, to tell her what she already suspected. "Angela" told her everything she wanted to hear, validated her feelings. She already suspected, she had had a bad feeling Jane had done something with Lorelei at the cabin, all alone; it wasn't a huge stretch to tell herself in a dream that they kissed and actually be right. She couldn't tell her who murdered her, she couldn't tell her of anything of value.

She said to Jane, defeated, "You're right, she wasn't real. She told me everything I already knew. I, I hate Lorelei, and all she did was tell me to take her away from you. I was so upset and she told me to do something with those feelings that I already wanted to do." She couldn't stop talking, even if it sounded foolish. Another tear fell.

Patrick wished she wasn't so hard on herself. She did it too much. If she truly despised Lorelei that much, it didn't surprise him that his late wife was in her dreams. She would really be the only woman Lisbon's subconscious could come up with that had the authority to say what Lisbon said she did. When she first said it was Angela, he had an absurd hope it was real, that she could actually tell them who killed her, and at the same time, give him the same absolution that she gave Teresa in her dream. His guilt was overwhelming, and he didn't deserve to ever find another woman in his life. Sometimes he wished someone told him it was okay, right before he told himself it was wrong. Why couldn't it be right?

"Teresa, Teresa don't cry. Shh, shh, don't cry." He hugged her and she put her face on his chest, breathing in and out deeply, trying to calm down. "It's okay," he said.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"What are you sorry for?"

"I don't know, I'm just sorry." She said.

"Don't be sorry. I'm the one that should be sorry. I've kept you in the dark on everything. I hope you understand that I have to, and I hope you can forgive me. It seems that everything I care about is taken away from me. That's why I have to find Red John, so I can finally have a life again, and unfortunately that means we have to deal with Lorelei. Because when I find, and when I kill him, I will be able to love freely again, I will be able to tell the person I love that I love them."

Lisbon raised her eyes up to his.

"Do you love someone, Patrick, right now?"

"Yes. But I'm afraid what will happen if anyone finds out."

"I'll keep your secret, Jane. You can trust me."

"I know, Teresa. I'll tell you soon, I promise."

"Patrick," she said, staring at him. He swallowed.

"Yes?"

Instead of answering she kissed him. He kissed her back, softly at first and then more deeply.

"You're so beautiful, Teresa, don't ever think that you aren't. Don't ever think that you don't deserve something, don't ever think that I would choose someone over you. Don't think that you need to be chosen in the first place, you are above that don't let other people make you feel bad about yourself." He kissed her again, and they moved towards her large bed, lying down, and lips together the whole time.

He ran his hands up to her chin, her face, her hair. She held on to him from underneath his body, one arm around his shoulder, the other in his thick blonde hair while he momentarily left her lips to nuzzle her neck. She gasped and shivers shot through her spine, making her arch her back and involuntarily hit Jane's pelvis with her hips. Before he could control himself, he ground into her with his body, and she gave up a small sigh.

Suddenly, she pushed him away.

"Jane, you can't, we can't."

He wished she were wrong, but she was right. Until he found Red John, he couldn't have this. He rolled over and they lay side by side, facing the ceiling. Lisbon adjusted her clothes and sat up.

"I should go," Jane said.

"I wish you didn't have to. I wish you would stay, just for one night." She cuddled up to his side. He pulled his jacket off and lay back down, unbuttoning his vest. Maybe it would be okay. Her eyelids were already getting heavy and her breathing slowed down.

"I'll stay for a little while," he said. He closed his eyes and wrapped his arm around Lisbon.

"Thank you." She fell asleep within minutes. Every so often he would think that he should leave, but eventually he stopped trying to convince himself and fell asleep as well.


End file.
